this sadness will fossilize
by himikiyo
Summary: "Tell me, then," Shuichi said, barely audible. "Whatever you want to. About either of them." / Grief never really goes away, but it's possible to move forward without forgetting.


If only Miu Iruma could see her now. Himiko didn't know when she'd become this sort of person, stumbling from relationship to relationship with people dropping like flies as she went, but it sure showed her. So much for being ugly, annoying, and undesirable. Now, Miu would probably call her a slut (rest in peace, she didn't deserve to have filthy people defiling her grave).

Himiko held her breath, taking Shuichi's arm and moving it off of her a tiny bit at a time, trying not to wake him. Her hands trembled a little from how small she was trying to make her movements, but then, shaking wasn't uncommon for her nowadays. Once his arm was laying safely on the bed, he was still sound asleep, breathing slow and even. Good.

Now that she was freed, Himiko slipped out of bed, shivering as her feet hit the cold floor. She grabbed a fuzzy cardigan from where she'd thrown it after the last time they did laundry, and tugged it on over her pajamas, wrapping her arms around herself. The sweater's fabric got caught on the red scrunchie around her wrist for a moment, and Himiko bit her lip hard, looking away from it. Spring mornings were still chilly. Despite the temperature, she shuffled down the hall of their cramped apartment, going out onto the balcony.

Tenko would like the crisp air, fresh and perfect for exercise. Himiko wanted to bottle it up and send it to wherever she was, so maybe her spirit would find peace.

With these thoughts in her head, she felt her stomach tying itself in knots. Himiko sat down on the floor of the balcony, disregarding the perfectly good chairs. The cold seeped into her bones this way, keeping her alert (she couldn't afford to be unprepared). Down the street, a man was yelling at his son, words bouncing off all the buildings. She wrapped her sweater tighter around herself and exhaled.

"What are you doing out here?" she heard after what could have been a century. Himiko didn't bother to turn her head, still gazing out at the ground below.

"Needed to think, didn't wanna wake you," she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You don't need to worry about that," Shuichi said. "I don't mind if you wake me." He finally stepped over the balcony threshold, sitting down on the floor next to her. When he laid his hand over her own, it immediately went to Maki's scrunchie, and Himiko pretended not to notice.

"I know, but I didn't want to. I'm just...thinking. It's not something you need to be there for."

"I just want to be able to help you if you're hurting." Finally, his fingers moved away from the scrunchie, and Shuichi wrapped an arm around her waist instead, tugging her gently into his side. Himiko acquiesced, resting her head on his shoulder, but as always, it felt just a little out of place. Too broad of a shoulder, no long hair tickling her skin.

"I know."

Shuichi let out an exasperated sigh, one that sounded like it used up all the air in his lungs. For a long few moments, he was silent.

"I just think that maybe we need help, or something. And...nobody else has given us any, so we have to be there for each other. We can't just stay in limbo like this forever. Life might not ever be great, but it doesn't have to be awful."

"Okay, Kaito, the impossible is possible," Himiko muttered sarcastically, more venomous than she needed to be. "You're the one who still cries about Kaede every day when you think I can't hear."

Immediately, she felt Shuichi tense up against her, and now it was Himiko's turn to sigh. ("You can never do anything right, can you, you insipid little girl?" said the little voice in her head that sounded like Korekiyo).

"Sorry, I...I shouldn't have said that," she murmured, leaning over to give him a hesitant kiss in apology. When she closed her eyes, two different faces flashed against the backs of her eyelids, neither of them his.

"It's okay. I know," Shuichi said, always forgiving, always too soft with her. He was still courtroom-harsh when he needed to be, with aggressive fans or other people giving them trouble, but then all the fight leaked out of him until the next time. "We've both been on edge, since Maki..." He trailed off, not finishing his thought. He didn't need to.

Absently, Himiko's fingertips brushed over her own lips, expecting them to come away stained with lipstick. She wished they did.

"It's cold out," she said, trying to cover her mistake.

"Let's go in, then. C'mon." Shuichi got to his feet, pulling her up a moment later. Himiko nodded, winding her arms around him and pressing close as they walked back into the mercifully warm kitchen. He was too tall and too short all at once, and Himiko was always aware of how she was wrong too, whenever he started to call her Kaede by mistake. Shuichi knew it too, when she expected the kind of strength he didn't have, or traced her fingers over scars that weren't there.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, okay?" he said after sliding the balcony door shut, gently worming out from her grip.

"Yeah, okay. Want me to order something for breakfast?" Himiko hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, already fishing out her phone.

"Mm, good idea, we both need to eat." Shuichi nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder for just a moment before turning away. There was no need for him to tell her what to get him. Himiko called one of their favorite places for delivery, waiting until she'd hung up and she heard the shower running before she dissolved.

She choked on her sobs, fumbling with her phone to search Youtube through her blurry vision. There — 'best of Maki Harukawa compilation.' Himiko stabbed play with one shaky finger, Maki's voice a backdrop to her tears.

There had been a time when she'd had the real Maki in the background, awkwardly patting her back and mumbling reassurances like just saying them pained her. Himiko hadn't minded, though. She knew what it was like to want to keep anything emotional locked up inside. She'd always felt so safe with Maki's arms around her, or Maki kissing her. Himiko had been able to wake up in the mornings to the sound of Maki and Shuichi bickering, and she'd shuffle into the kitchen to lean against her girlfriend and listen to the conversation. All of Maki's edges had softened at moments like that.

She'd always been the strongest of the three of them, and even in spite of all they'd been through (or perhaps because of it), a part of Himiko had thought Maki might just be immortal.

When the doorbell rang, she hit pause on the video, hopping down from the counter and wiping her eyes. On the way to the door, she trailed her fingers along the photos on the fridge, three faces smiling up at her, locked in time. The clipping of Maki's obituary was wedged behind one of them, only the soft edges of the newsprint peeking out.

The high school kid delivering their food looked all wide-eyed and starstruck when she opened the door, and Himiko took the still-warm paper bag roughly, shoving the money in his hand and closing the door again before he could say anything. She didn't want to hear it.

After setting out breakfast, she crept down the hall, pressing an ear against the bathroom door. The shower was still running, and now that she was closer, she could hear Shuichi crying. Himiko turned on her heel and went back to the kitchen. She tasted sour guilt, repulsed at her own anger. Maki hadn't cried.

She sat at the table alone, neatly set for three. They only owned six plates, so they had five in rotation. The sixth remained in Maki's place, where it had been since the day the hospital called, forever waiting for her.

They talked about Maki often, even if it was mostly obliquely, with too many trailing off sentences. That pain was evenly shared between them. Shuichi had wholeheartedly supported the budding relationship between her and Maki, and Himiko knew he didn't mind that their own relationship had been born mostly of grieving her.

What they both also knew, but rarely acknowledged out loud, was that Himiko had dated (funny, since she'd never gone on a real date with any of them) three people in the past year and a half. Maki and Shuichi made only two.

That first heartbreak wasn't so easily shared. In fact, Shuichi hadn't even known who it was at first. He knew there'd been someone, and he likely had his suspicions, but he'd never asked, and Himiko had never volunteered the information on her own. Once, they'd been out shopping, and passed by a little store selling incense, the door ajar and the mix of scents wafting out into the street. It was like being punched in the stomach. Himiko had crumpled to her knees right there on the sidewalk.

It wasn't until later, when Shuichi was bandaging her scraped legs in silence, that he'd suddenly said "Oh," and then, "I'm sorry." Himiko knew then, just from looking in his eyes, that he'd realized.

When Shuichi eventually came back into the kitchen, Himiko nodded towards the place she'd set for him, smiling faintly.

"Are you feeling a little better?" she asked.

"Yeah, a little, thanks," he murmured, sitting down across from her. "You could've started eating, you know. You didn't have to wait for me."

"It's fine, I didn't mind." Truthfully, Himiko had been too lost in thought to remember there was food in front of her at all. Besides, she didn't have much of an appetite nowadays. Not wanting to worry Shuichi though, she forced a smile, taking a bite.

They ate in relative silence, both of them too worn out to start a conversation. It reminded her of the shadowy corners of the Ultimate Academy, fear cloaking everything.

"I read about a little memorial some people are having for Kaede tomorrow," Shuichi said a bit later, once they were settled on the couch, each immersed in their own books. "So I think I'm going to go. Check it out, at least."

"Mm, okay. What time is it? I'll come with you." Himiko glanced up from her book, keeping her place with a finger.

"No." His voice was a little harsher than usual, and Himiko startled, brow furrowing in confusion. "It's...I want to go alone."

"Well, you're the one who was just talking about how we need to help each other. Sorry I asked." She looked down again. Shuichi sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I appreciate the offer. For anything else, I'd be glad to have you there with me, but this just feels like something I have to do for myself. I love you. But...I still love Kaede too. I'm not sure that'll ever change."

"I know. Me too, both of them. I wouldn't even be with you if..." Himiko said, letting out a ragged sigh.

"It's okay. That's fine. I love you anyway. And...it's okay to talk about it more, instead of just avoiding the subject all the time." Shuichi kissed the top of her head, and she let the knot of guilt in her stomach loosen just a little.

"I love you anyway too. And I think talking about it would be good."

He shifted to lay back on the couch, and Himiko curled into his side, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat like this, steady and real.

"Tell me, then," Shuichi said, barely audible. "Whatever you want to. About either of them."

She started to talk, and despite the flood of memories, the only one real and solid next to her was Shuichi.


End file.
